


we've gone way too fast for way too long

by planarities



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Season/Series 04, Unplanned Pregnancy, six years is a lot of time and a lot of feelings, snippets of life on the Ark 2.0
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 21:04:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13256592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/planarities/pseuds/planarities
Summary: Six years, nine days.There may be better times, but this one is theirs.





	we've gone way too fast for way too long

**Author's Note:**

> You know, I've been working on this on and off for months now, and at this point I've been looking at it for so long that I honestly have no clue if any of it makes any sense anymore. A couple of weeks ago I more or less came to terms that it will never see the light of day, because there were many pieces missing and I've been slowly losing both my patience and motivation. And then, out of nowhere, inspiration struck and I just knew that if I don't finish it now, I never will.  
> Let me know your thoughts & feel free to point out the mistakes, this was a nightmare to edit and I wanted to get it out before I went completely insane.
> 
> These two own me and I don't even really watch the show anymore, for God's sake.

0001

He walks through empty space and harsh metal on autopilot.

He flinches away from the windows, sickened by the raging fusion of orange and yellow and red. Even when he closes his eyes, he still sees the fiery destruction, feels the waves of poisonous radiation overwhelming the beautiful planet. His mind supplies him with another terrifying image: flames surging towards the sky, reaching high enough to break through the metal panel beneath his feet and bring him down with them.

And then, just for a second, he _hopes_ they do.

Unable to take any more of it, he makes a sharp turn through the first door he finds. He leaves it all behind him, the fire that makes his blood run freezing cold, the light that threatens to crawl under his skin and consume him whole.

He steps back and shuts the door closed, finds himself in complete darkness.

His heart rages against his rib cage,  _thump thump thump_  echoing back and forth between the metal walls, threatening to suffocate him. He leans back against the door and sinks to the floor, pushes his head into his hands and slowly takes control of his ragged breaths.

When he finally trusts his lungs to work on their own, he focuses on his surroundings and realizes that a faint light seeps into the room through the crack under the door. He can only see the first couple of floor tiles in front of him, the rest of what seems to be a storage room making up dark shapes.

It takes no effort, really, to find himself back where it all started.

A narrow bed, books with frayed edges, a loose tile on the floor. Almost like he never left. His old life plays out in front of his eyes, but he's not sure he even remembers being the person it belonged to.

For a second there he almost expects his mother to appear at the doorstep with the ever-present tightness in her shoulders and rough lines carved into her hands. He can almost see the floor tile moving, and a flash of his sister's messy hair.

And then all of it is gone. There's no mother, there's no sister.

He's alone.

He wonders what would have happened if he hadn't brought Octavia out of their room that day. No ground, no wars, no deaths, no end of the world. Then he remembers his sister was never supposed to be alive, and the Ark was never supposed to last.

And yet here they are. Locked in a cage, no signal from the ground.

Five years.

Five goddamn years.

He kicks his leg, the sole of his boot collides with the opposite wall, again and again. 'Fuck, fuck, _fuck_!'

He bangs his head back against the door, eyes shutting closed, chest heaving, knuckles burning. This feels like it could be it. Darkness devoid of all feeling, that's how he always imagined death.

Below him, the Earth burns, taking every living thing down with her as one final act of revenge.

He waits for the end.

It doesn't come.

He curls down on the floor and closes his eyes, exhaustion coming up fast and hard.

He dreams of nameless faces screaming into the night, torturing him even though he doesn't know why.

' _What have you done? What have you done?_ '

When he wakes up, his cheeks are wet from silent tears and he can't breathe.

He remembers every single thing _._

 

0002

Nothing feels right.

The lines are too straight, the edges too sharp. Everything is too loud and too quiet at the same time.

This is a new yet familiar world, a world of hazard signs and buzzing fluorescent lights, of doorways that seal behind him and suffocating sterile smell.

Everyone he lost is here, all the time. They are the silent footsteps following him around when he is awake, they scream in agony when he finally falls asleep.

 _My sister, my responsibility_ , his promise echoes in his mind. And then a voice whispers:

 _you couldn't even do that right_.

There's no distinguishing his emotions - grief, despair, remorse - they all blended together, and now it just  _hurts_.

Every once in a while he notices Raven in the distance, tapping at a tablet's screen as she examines colorful wires sticking out of the wall. The thought of giving up never even crossed her mind.

He wishes he can say the same.

Unfortunately, these days he seems to be made of nothing but the lines he was willing to cross and all the lives he cost.

He looks out of the window and sees the scorched Earth. Next thing he knows, he's in a bathroom throwing up his breakfast.  _A rookie mistake_ , he notes with gritted teeth.

He splashes his face with cold water and grips the edge of the sink. One breath, two, three. He counts as the tries to get his heartbeat under control.

He stops himself before he reaches one hundred. 

 

0005

He wakes up in darkness again. One day it won't come as a surprise, he's sure.

Just not today.

He swallows some food in a half-hearted attempt at regaining normalcy, then nods at Harper in passing. With a heavy heart he notes that the darkness under her eyes seems to weigh her down harder each day.

His feet carry him down the empty corridors, no aim in sight. He comes across one of Raven's wrenches, temporarily abandoned on the floor, and stops in his tracks. She is the one carrying the load right now, doing everything she can to keep them alive, and here he is, hosting a pity party for the audience of one.

The revelation shakes him to the core.

Guilty because he lives, sure, but also guilty _if he_ _gives up_.

Maybe, _maybe_ , if Raven can plow on without hesitation, he can at least try.

He keeps going, through the narrow hallways and past long abandoned posts. Only now, he catches himself placing items on a list in his mind. He peers into control rooms and storage facilities, tentative ideas shaping into only half-bad plans as he subconsciously takes stock of the available supplies and leftover issues.

It's not much, but it's a start. A start which, at the end of the day, leaves him with a headache and still largely pessimistic outlook on their situation.

He rounds a corner and walks up to the council room they've claimed for themselves, rubbing his eyes in a futile attempt to relieve the tension in his head.

That's when raised voices grab his attention. Even though he wants to find a corner farthest from everyone, curl up, and sleep, he knows it was only a matter of time before someone snapped. Considering they are all so tightly wound these days, a domino effect was inevitable.

He halts in the doorway, taking in the tense scene.

'She pretty much said we're dead,' Murphy bites at Monty, the two of them glaring at each other from across the room. 'Aren't you supposed to be the genius?'

'You sure are acting like an asshole,' Monty counters.

'Yes,' Murphy says, gleeful. 'A genius, an asshole, fucking grounders in space,' he counts off, then points at Echo as an after-thought. 'And let's not forget, the one that tried to pierce herself with a sword not a week ago!'

'That's enough,' Raven says firmly, rising from her seat. 'I only said it's going to be hard. Not impossible.'

' _Great_ ,' Harper comments from her seat in the back of the room. 'All the peace and quiet we've had sure started to get boring.'

The pounding in Bellamy's skull getting worse by the second, Bellamy decides enough is enough. He steps into the room and clears his throat. 'Everyone, shut up! So help me God, we're not doing the whole  _teenagers left to themselves start killing each other_  thing again.'

Murphy throws his arms up in the air. 'And who the fuck leaves us by ourselves all the damn time? Why is it always up to us to stop the fucking human extinction?'

Emori gives Murphy's upper arm a squeeze before looking straight at Raven with a serious expression. 'Tell us. How bad is it?' She adds, 'And no sugarcoating.'

Murphy raises his eyebrows. 'Oh, so  _we're all going to die_  passes as sugarcoating these days?'

Emori ignores him and keeps her inquiring gaze on Raven. Raven flicks a glance at Bellamy, registers his nod before sighing in defeat.

'Fine. Here's the short version,' She pushes away from the chair and starts pacing. 'Communication system doesn't work. To be more precise, it doesn't exist. Best guess, it's having the time of its life on a space crusade somewhere. Life support is fine for now, but it will need constant maintenance and all the redundant systems have malfunctioned years ago. The Ark was nearing its expiration date, and I have to be honest, I don't like the sounds the decompression chamber is making so going outside  _could_  kill us all, just putting that out there.'

She stops and makes a sharp turn, tightens her ponytail before resuming her pacing. 'Good news is, Monty is about seventy percent sure the food will be taken care of, and data backups are fully functional, so we won't die of boredom.'

It takes a while for the new information to sink in, and then Harper's the first one to break the silence. 'So there's no way of knowing if the bunker survived-'

Echo continues, '-and in five years there will be no way of knowing if the Earth has recovered-'

'But we will all probably implode long before that,' Emori states matter-of-factly. They all look at her, and she shrugs.

'Probably,' Raven concedes, 'but not necessarily.'

Murphy shakes his head, denial and straight-up refusal etched into his pained smirk. 'This isn't fair.'

And that's when Monty snaps. ' _None of this was ever fair!_ '

Everybody just kind of stops and holds their breath, Monty's mouth pressing into a thin line as he shuts his eyes to avoid looking at any of them. After a moment, Bellamy crosses the short distance and hesitantly reaches for Monty's shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze before agreeing in a quiet voice, 'No, it wasn't.'

A heavy cloud of somberness settles among them, a calm after the storm that brings a heartbreaking damage report rather than much needed relief.

Murphy leans back into his seat, his finger tapping once, twice, against the armrest.

'Don't you guys ever think this whole  _future of humanity in our hands_  thing is getting a bit old?'

Defeated, they avoid each other's weary gazes, the ever-present hum of the Ark filling up the gaping space between them.

Turns out, one thousand eight hundred is one hell of an elephant in the room.

That night, Bellamy remains alone, staying seated at the table under the dim lights long after everyone bid their half-hearted good-nights. He's trying and, very predictably, failing to clear his head before he retreats to his room for another restless night. Just when he's about to give up, soft footsteps have him turning in his seat.

Raven's eyes watch him from the doorway, her expression unreadable. She sighs, then comes inside and sinks into a seat next to his. There's a smudge of grease on her cheek, apparently from some late-night repairs. It would make him smile, maybe, if his chest didn't feel so tight.

They sit in silence for a while, the unexpected company putting him at ease even amid the Ark's ominous sounds and blinking lights.

She shifts in her seat beside him, her fingertips gliding over the smooth armrest. 'You know what Monty said, how none of this was fair?'

He nods, not sure what she's trying to say.

She looks him straight in the eye, her expression earnest. 'None of this was fair to you, either, you know. Octavia, Clarke - it's not your fault.'

'Most of it was my fault,' he tells her, nails digging into his palm as he fails to keep his bitterness at bay.

'Sure,' she shrugs, warmth in her eyes betraying her amusement.

He lets out a humorless chuckle. 'I thought you're supposed to be making me feel better.'

She regards him carefully, then cocks her head. 'Nobody's gonna make you better but you.'

She lets him mull over it for a moment, then looks at him again, softer this time. 'I know you're not letting any of it go any time soon. Just - you asked me if I'm with you, Bellamy. And I trust you know by now that I always mean what I say.'

After a moment of hesitation, she reaches over and places a comforting hand on his shoulder. It says  _I'm here_  and  _you don't have to do this by yourself_.

There's a lump in his throat as he watches her pick herself up from the chair and leave him alone to his thoughts.

There's a lump in his throat because he said those same words to someone else once, and it wasn't enough.

It wasn't enough for her to stay, but then again, it's not like he has any claim to the betrayal that once left a scar on his heart. He is the one who turned his back this time.

And there will be no way of making it right, ever.

He sinks further into his chair, running his hands through his hair. He knows Raven is right, as usual. This tightness in his chest won't let up until he allows it to.

Only, after everything he's done, why the hell would he?

 

0006

The morning brings a fresh perspective, and he's back on track.

Sure, they may all be dead in a week, but they owe it to everyone they lost to at least try and survive.

He gathers his companions, all looking varying degrees of terrible after another sleepless night. He proposes operating on the assumption that they will make it out alive until such time as they are proven wrong. Tired of arguing and hopeless existence they've fallen into, they reluctantly agree.

They reach a consensus on work assignments, too. Monty's in charge of food and Raven will make sure they don't blow up. Both of them can use all the help they can get.

Inspired by the first batch of their tentative future plans, Bellamy combs the nearby storage room and returns with a black marker. After a moment of contemplation he pushes a shelf away from the wall in the center of the council room. He raises his arm as high as he can and carefully writes number six inside a small rectangle. Aware of all the expectant gazes on him, he determinedly crosses it out. 

Just like that, five years become a tangible goal.

He steps away from the wall to examine his work, surprised to realize the writing looks even smaller from the distance. Although it's a relief that they're finally being proactive about their situation, the tense silence tells Bellamy that he's not the only one disheartened by all the empty space they have to fill in before they can go back home.

They throw themselves into work, act like they're not counting away the days.

It doesn't really help, anyway.

 

0031

They walk down the metal corridors like ghosts haunted by their own pasts.

A sister whose smile is etched into his own skin, a blonde girl who took everything upon herself, a man who could have become the father he never had, if there was only more time.

Ironically, up here he's faced with an abundance of time. Red digits on the clock shuffle painstakingly slowly, and five years start to seem like a lifetime.

He becomes desperately afraid of forgetting.

The dried mud on his boots serves as a painful yet necessary reminder that there's something more than this metal cage.

His heavy steps echo in all that empty space. Whichever door he opens, whatever room he enters - there's no rustling of the leaves, no chirping birds, no waves crashing against the shore.

Every time he encounters a window, he looks the other way.

  

0052

' _Guys, get in here right now!_ ' Monty's shouting has them abandoning their chores and piling into the main control room.

Monty stands in front of the big control panel, eyes glued to some sort of makeshift device in his hands. Upon entrance everyone immediately picks up on the steady beeping sound it's producing.

Monty turns to them, eyes gleaming with excitement. 'I think I picked up a signal.'

There's a moment of shocked silence, and then-

'A signal? How is that-' Raven pushes through the group and grabs the device out of Monty's hands. He doesn't seem to mind, turning instead eagerly towards everyone else to explain.

'I thought our communications were irreparable,' Bellamy says skeptically.

'Raven found some wires, I thought I'd give it a shot. I didn't think it would work, because the radius should be way too small, and the signal is-'

'It can't be possible,' Raven says, wide-eyed, turning the device over in her hands.

'-weak and the frequency is a bit off but-'

Raven turns to Monty, frowning. 'This shouldn't even be able to register the generator I'm testing in the lab.'

Monty stops in the middle of the sentence, his mouth still open. Murphy taps his fingers against the doorway he's leaning on. 'You two geniuses sure that's not exactly what he's picking up?'

Monty and Raven exchange a glance, and then Monty's eyes shut as the possibility sinks in. A heartbeat later, he grabs the device and hurries out of the room.

'Monty-' Raven starts, but he's gone. She follows after him, everyone else right behind her.

They find him in the lab, his expression defeated as Murphy's theory quickly proves correct.

Raven comes up to his side. 'Monty, I'm sorry, I should've told you I've been running tests.'

'No, it's my fault,' he turns away, shaking his head. 'I was stupid.'

'Not stupid,' Echo corrects him from her spot against the wall. 'Just hopeful.'

Monty's expression is more of a grimace than a smile. 'Yeah, well, they're one and the same these days, aren't they?'

He dumps the device into a trash can, loud clang startling everyone, and leaves the lab shaking his head.

Bellamy bites down on his lip, Monty's heartbroken expression now added to the ever-growing weight on his shoulders. When Raven looks at him in a silent question, Bellamy shakes his head. He knows she wants to make sure Monty is okay, but they should give their friend a moment to cool off first.

'I've been thinking,' Murphy suddenly says, and all heads turn toward him. He is leaning against the doorway, arms crossed in a deceptively casual stance.

'What if we don't die?' He kicks off the doorway, faces them head-on. 'What if we manage to stay alive in this fucking tin can, if we don't kill ourselves or each other?'

He sweeps his gaze over everyone's troubled expressions, then continues, slight shakiness in voice betraying him. 'What if we, by some miracle, safely return - and there's nothing waiting for us down there?'

The only answer he gets is deafening silence.

He presses further. 'What are the seven of us supposed to do then? Start from scratch again? Repopulate the fucking Earth? When does it end?'

Raven snaps. 'It ends with the seven of us safe and sound on the Ground, surrounded by sunshine and fucking singing birds.' She pushes away from the table she was leaning on and narrows her eyes, her voice threatening. 'Anyone else got any stupid questions?'

Bellamy can't help but feel proud when no one dares to move, each of their companions stunned into silence.

It's always nice to be reminded of Raven's belief that anything other than survival is simply not an option. But like Murphy said, even if she's right, even if they make it to the Ground, what does it all matter if no one is waiting for them there?

Sisters who deserved so much more, friends who became family. 

Gone. Gone.

It's a thought they won't be able to shake off, he knows. One more burden they have to learn to carry.

Right now, though, breathing is hard enough.

One by one, they go back to work, but no amount of Ark maintenance or algae farming can make the unease that has settled deep inside their chests go away.

Later, Bellamy finds Raven in an empty corridor, settled in front of an exposed panel just above the floor, surrounded by tools and spare parts.

'They are right, you know,' he says, leaning his shoulder against the wall. 'If we really are the last ones alive, we have to talk about what that means.'

She looks him up and down, and he knows she sees it all - bitten nails, strained shoulders, a tremble in his voice. He could hide it if he tried, maybe, but from her - he doesn't really remember how. Redness around her eyes and weariness in her movements tell the same story.

She seems to ponder his statement for a moment before nodding. 'Okay. But not today.'

She pulls at the lever she's been working on with newfound determination, her brow furrowed as she concentrates on her task. 'Today, I'm gonna fix this panel, and you're gonna help me.'

When he hesitates, she looks up, her voice strikingly soft. 'We have to start somewhere.'

Her words taste of rebellion.

It's tentative and gentle, but even now, after his chest has been filled with so much pain that every breath represents a struggle, he recognizes it for what it is.

_Hope._

Hope that they'll make it. Hope that they'll be alright.

Are they just tricking themselves into thinking they can survive this? Maybe - but then again, the world was over before they were even born. End of the world is all that they have ever known. One apocalypse after another.

The better question is this: does he even know how to be hopeful anymore?

He lowers himself on the ground next to Raven and extends his hand. Without taking her eyes off the wires in the wall, she presses the wrench into his palm and tells him what to do. As they work in silence, arms bumping into one other, he thinks -

this feels like a good place to start.

 

0054

After another day of routine daily tasks that should make his existence useful but mostly just leave him empty, he finds Monty on the observation deck, his blank expression facing the scene outside. Bellamy lowers himself on the floor next to him, instinctively turning away from the window.

After a while, Monty finally speaks. 'What are we doing, Bellamy?'

Bellamy takes a moment before gently asking, 'What do you mean?'

'Don't you get tired of just surviving?'

Monty finally meets his gaze, and Bellamy struggles to think of something to say. He wants to say they will be fine, that they  _are_  fine, but the unrelenting numbness and a tiring ache in his bones call him out on his lie.

Monty turns his gaze back on the darkness outside, his voice on the verge of breaking. 'I think Jasper was tired of it.'

Bellamy's eyes shut close, tightness in his throat stopping him from saying anything. So instead he puts his arm around Monty and brings him in close. Monty's head proves to be a comforting weight on his shoulder, for once.

'Do you think they suffered?' Monty's question comes out as barely more than a whisper.

Bellamy doesn't have to ask who he means. Jasper. Clarke. Everyone they let down, everyone they left behind.

'I'd like to think they didn't,' Bellamy starts slowly. 'But that feels too much like letting myself off the hook.'

'She made a choice, you know,' Monty tells him, and Bellamy's heart is on the verge of ripping in half. 'I know you respected her enough to accept her choices.'

Bellamy struggles to keep his voice even. 'The same goes for you, then.'

Monty leans back and lets out a humorless chuckle. 'Yeah. Let me know when it stops feeling like there's a hole in your chest, then I'll try and take my own advice too.'

Bellamy thinks back to Monty's question. Remembers how, while they were leaving the burning Earth behind them, he promised he would keep fighting. Stay alive. Survive.

He owes it to everyone. He owes it to Clarke.

But, staying alive and actually living - there's a huge difference, they all know it. He's not even sure he remembers the last time there was more on his mind than just survival. There were few times, down on the Ground, moments of weakness in which he entertained the idea. Imagined himself surrounded by the people he loved - no running, no wars. He thought about living, but as the time went on he wasn't sure he'd ever get to try.

'I am tired of just surviving, too,' Bellamy finally admits. He takes a deep breath and raises his gaze, looks straight through the glass outside.

There it is, the corpse of a world that was snatched out of their hands after the first addictive taste. Air caught in his lungs, he takes in all of the darkness, ashes and dust where lush green used to be. So quiet, so still. So  _dead_. His heart beats wildly, his stomach urges him to avert his gaze.

He waits for it to pass.

All this time he's been playing a messed up game of connect the dots, in which dots are all the scars he left, and the picture they reveal is one he hasn't been ready to see. When all that remains is the pestering guilt which has settled deep in his chest long ago, he breathes out, sensing Monty's expectant gaze.

'How about we start living?' Bellamy asks him, and watches in relief as the hesitant quirk of Monty's lips turns into a real smile.

 

0062

Day seven of project Turn Every Room Upside Down.

It may look like they let wild beasts loose in the corridors, but they are making progress with the inventory, he swears.

He sets aside a stash of liquor he found in one of the storage rooms filled with stale air, not yet ready to have a repeat of the time they all got high on the Ground. Shaking off the memories, he spots a storage unit in the corner that they haven't been through yet.

That's how he stumbles upon a box of empty notebooks, and for a short moment remembers what true joy feels like.

Last time he was on the Ark, blank paper was a luxury. Like most kids, he learned handwriting on smooth glass screens, and thought in envy about those lucky enough to be able to afford actual paper.

He goes through the box, fingers running along colorful spines, his mind spinning with possibilities of what he can fill the notebooks with.

After some consideration, he takes two of the thickest ones, and no one's there to stop him.

There are some perks to being the last ones standing after all.

 

0093

'So,' Bellamy asks, avoiding a blow to his head, 'how you've been?'

Harper laughs before throwing another punch. 'I'm fine, _mom_.'

He grabs her wrist and twists her arm, holding her in place. 'You've been sleeping alright?'

She elbows him in the stomach and slips out of his reach, jumping on her feet as she readies for another attack. 'Honestly, Bellamy, you don't have to worry so much.'

'Humor me,' he says, blocking her second attempt.

She sighs. 'I'm sleeping better, thanks for asking,' she corrects herself, focused on winning this round. She goes for his stomach again, launches herself onto his back and shifts his balance until he trips, effectively bringing both of them to the ground. She keeps his neck in a tight hold until he taps out.

Wiping the sweat off her forehead, she helps him to his feet.

He's grinning from ear to ear. 'See? Was that so hard?'

She shakes her head in amusement, her cough sounding suspiciously like _mother hen_. He can't exactly argue with that, having spent a good deal of their morning exercise sessions keeping an eye on her, just like he finds time in his day to check up on others.

Octavia is not here. (Octavia is maybe not on the Ground, either, but he can't think about that or the pain will split him in half.) So he will gather all the love and worry he has in him, and use them to keep his friends alive.

His sister wouldn't mind that, he's sure. She'd probably be delighted to see him pester someone else for a change. The thought of it brings a smile to his lips, and for once there's more fondness than guilt to it. God, he misses his sister so damn much.

But Octavia is not here.

Harper takes a gulp of water and lowers herself back to the floor, starting with her push-ups. He joins her after a moment, quickly finding a steady rhythm.

She shakes her head, smiling to herself. 'Good thing we're not channeling our frustration in an aggressive and counterproductive way.'

'Yeah, good thing indeed,' he says through gritted teeth, mindful not to lose count. 'I'm glad someone's reading the medical books.'

'It's nice to learn about all the ways we're screwed up, you know.'

'I guess it's better to know what you're up against.'

'Honestly, it would probably take years to go through it all.

'Well, we do have five of them,' he points out.

They exchange a resigned glance, and finish their workout in silence.

 

0127

'So, how's chronicling our Earth adventures for the sake of future generations going?' Raven asks, throwing herself onto his bed behind him. It's another quiet evening up in the Space, the kind he's learned to take comfort in. 

He doesn't even look up from his work at the desk. 'Keep making fun of it and I'll change your description to _mad scientist with bad breath_.'

She doesn't sound very concerned. 'I know you, Bellamy Blake. The historical inaccuracy would eat you up alive.'

After a moment, she thinks of something, and he can hear the smirk in her voice. 'What's my description now?'

He stops writing and looks over his shoulder. 'Raven Reyes, mechanic and official pain in Bellamy Blake's ass.'

She grins. 'Aw, Blake. You spoil me.'

He ignores her teasing and clicks his pen. 'Anyway, none of my chronicling matters if we all implode a week from now.'

'Not to worry, _the pain in your ass_ has it all under control. As usual.' She taps her fingers against the metal bed frame and comes up behind him. 'And on the off-chance that we do die, it would be my genuine pleasure to implode by your side.'

He shakes his head, struggling to hide his amusement. 'Why do you have to be so weird?'

Her head pops up above his right shoulder, her gaze sweeping over the carefully filled-out pages. 'Why are you such a nerd?'

'Touche,' he chuckles, and she pats his back before disappearing into the hallway.

He returns to his work, her laughter echoing in his mind long after she's gone.

 

0165

Sometimes he feels her.

Half his blood and twice his strength, made up of almost everything he did right and so much of what he did wrong. Her arm thrown around his shoulders as he goes about his day. A playful shove when he makes a stupid joke. He looks at himself in the mirror and she's always there, but pain strikes him once he realizes that the familiar weight of responsibility on his shoulders is not needed anymore.

Sometimes he sees her.

Self-appointed co-leader, a force to be reckoned with, a what-if that threatens to haunt him forever. She gives him a disapproving look when his heart battles his head and comes out on top yet again. He knows he has to be both now that the other half is gone.

Sometimes he hears him.

A mentor he didn't ask for, but was blessed with anyway. What he imagines having a father would feel like. Firm hand on his upper arm warning against hasty decisions. ' _Your mother would have been proud_ ,' echoes in his mind, but Bellamy would sometimes rather know if _he_ is proud. Guilt stops him from asking.

 

0184

Although their artificially measured day is not over yet, Bellamy has already retired to his room, lounging on his bed under dim lights. Today's work is done, but he has some material on his tablet that he wants to go through.

Even though he has come to enjoy moments of solitude like this, he finds surprising comfort in knowing exactly where his companions are. Murphy and Emori tangled together in some corner, Harper quizzing an amused Monty about the hidden signs of a psychopath, Raven finishing up in the workshop, Echo in front of a huge screen.

Who would have thought that their warrior Grounder would become obsessed with old movies. Late at night, she can be tracked by a bluish glow cast by the screen, her widened eyes fixed on the changing scenes. Thinking back to the time he walked in on her crying her eyes out in the middle of _The Lion King_ , Bellamy smiles to himself before focusing on his work.

'Some light bed-time reading?' Raven's teasing voice startles him, and he looks up to find her smirking in his doorway.

'Just some books I found,' he explains. 'Small group dynamics, long-term cohabitation in space... Figured we can use all the help we can get in the not-going-insane area.'

'We pretty much spent our whole lives here,' Raven reminds him.

'Yeah,' he agrees with a sad smile, 'but we didn't know anything else.' He turns the screen off and puts the tablet aside. 'Anyway, what brings you here?'

She takes a deep breath. 'I need you to teach me how to fight.'

He sees the determination in her raised chin, in her confident stance. 'Okay,' he says slowly. 'Just to make sure I'm not missing something - we're not expecting any hostile alien forces, are we?'

She crosses her arms over her chest. 'I'm serious, Bellamy. I want to be prepared for the Ground.'

Her unwavering resolve makes him smile. 'I was being serious too, but sure. We can manage that.'

'Thanks,' she nods, her gaze trailing over his room. Looking at her more closely, he notices the tightness in her shoulders, the way she wrings her hands, and suddenly remembers it's the six months mark today. They have decided not to make a point of days like this, but it's very hard to lose count when you're trapped in a metal box and there's little else to do.

He gestures to the empty space on the bed. 'Want to stay and keep me company?'

There's an almost imperceptible shift, her shoulders lowering in relief. 'I want to stay and make fun of you,' she grins, throwing herself onto the bed next to him.

He laughs, moving aside to make more room for her. 'That works, too.'

 

0202

'Again.'

She scowls at him, but does as he said.

She comes at him with from the side this time, and he blocks her attempt before she even raises her other hand. She growls in frustration, her breathing labored, strands that escaped her ponytail plastered to her sweaty forehead, but she doesn't give up. It's Raven, after all.

Bellamy can't help but grin.

She scowls harder, and tries again. Her frustration rises with each attack he fends off, not enjoying facing a skill she hasn't immediately excelled in.

He grabs her wrist and twists her arm, turning her around in the process. His other arm is an iron bar over her chest, holding her shoulders in place. He lowers his head beside her ear, grinning in victory. 'Check mate.'

Sharp pain in his upper arm makes him jump. He realizes she has bitten his bicep, his grip letting up just enough for her to slip away.

He looks at her with a strange mixture of shock and awe. 'So, you want to play dirty?'

She shrugs. 'Life's not fair, Bellamy.'

He shakes her head. And then he thinks, if she wants to play...

In the blink of an eye, he has her pressed against the wall, and one sharp _switch_ later smiles at the familiar press of a cold blade against his throat. Some things never change.

He meets her gaze, suddenly painfully aware of her body brimming with energy under him. He's so used to the cold they're engulfed by that the warm skin of her waist almost burns him.

Her eyes light up, a predatory smile wide on her face. She switches the knife away.

' _Again_.'

Hours later, they're sat on the floor, a heap of exhausted muscles. His back is leaned against the wall, legs stretched in front of him, and she's right by his side, her head resting on his shoulder.

'Thank you,' she says, her nose brushing against his neck.

'Don't thank me just yet. Tomorrow you'll be lucky to get out of bed with the way you've worked yourself today.'

'Is that an _I told you so_ in advance?'

Bellamy chuckles. 'Maybe.'

'I'm impressed. You've reached an unparalleled mother hen level.'

He bumps her shoulder with his, and she laughs, loud and full of life, filling the room inch by inch and warming it up. He joins her and suddenly there is no space left for risk assessments and urging matters, for shells of the people they used to be, for _five years_ and countdowns with no end.

It's just the two of them, their shoulders pressed together, and today, it is enough.

 

0267

' _Bellamy_!' A familiar voice jolts him from sleep.

He groggily lifts his head, trying to place the bleary outline in his doorway. It takes him a second to realize it's Harper, and another one to recognize the panic in her voice.

Cold dread washes over him before her words even register in his mind. '-won't wake up, I don't know what to do!'

He jumps out of the bed and runs after her, stumbling as he shields his eyes from the harsh lighting in the hallway. She leads him two doors down, makes a sharp turn into a dark room his mind recognizes as Monty's.

Bellamy halts in the doorway, needing a moment to process the scene before his eyes. Monty is thrashing violently on the bed, his head jerking like he's trying to shake something off. He keeps repeating 'No! No! No!' in a terrified voice, its chilling rawness making Bellamy's blood run cold.

Bellamy acts without thinking, rushing to Monty's side and trying to grab hold of him, one arm pinning his waist in place, the other an iron bar against his chest. ' _Monty_ , it's okay, it's just a bad dream!'

Monty's pleading turns to soft, quiet begging. His head turns, light from the hallway revealing the pain on his face and scaring Bellamy out of his mind.

He keeps Monty in a tight grip and tries again, more urgently. 'It's okay, it's _just a dream._ '

Monty freezes in place, his eyes spring open.

Bellamy knows he will never forget the bottomless darkness he finds in them.

Monty may seem awake but his nightmares are still here, his blown pupils stare at Bellamy but they see something else, something terrifying, something that contorts his expression in a way Bellamy never wants to see again. His chest heaves under Bellamy's arm, gasping for air.

'I'm sorry, I'm _so sorry_ ,' Monty breaks, tears spilling down his cheeks as he struggles to catch his breath. He buries his face into Bellamy's chest, grabbing onto his waist like he's drowning. Bellamy brings his arms around him and holds him as tight as he can, fingers digging into Monty's shoulders, each of his sobs ripping Bellamy's heart into more and more pieces.

' _I'm sorry_ ,' Monty says over and over again, and Bellamy does his best to counter each of his pleas with ' _it's okay_ ', rubbing small circles on his back until his hand starts to hurt.

He knows they're not on the Ark right now. They are back in Mount Weather and he has just turned Monty into a killer.

Seeing how he damaged Monty's kind soul that day, Bellamy can't stand a second longer in his own skin. There's a scream building in his throat, and his chest is straining under the weight of all the lives he made Monty take.

Pulling him even closer and pressing his cheek against the top of Monty's head, Bellamy shuts his eyes and weathers the storm, keeping the pieces of himself together for one more day.

He holds a shivering Monty in his arms and gently rocks him to back to sleep.

' _I_ am sorry,' Bellamy whispers as he lays Monty down on the bed, once all that remains is the quiet mixture of Monty's soft breathing and the Ark's ever-present hum. He picks up the blanket from the floor and spreads it over Monty, tucking the corners in.

When Bellamy leaves the bed, he finally notices a distraught Harper in the doorway, her ashen face making it clear that she witnessed the whole thing.

'Go get some sleep,' he tells her quietly, leaving no room for discussion. 'I'll stay and keep an eye on him.'

She nods, still too shocked to put up any kind of fight. She tears her widened eyes away from Monty and retreats into the harshly lit hallway without a sound.

Bellamy goes to close the door behind her, relieved to escape from the exposing fluorescence. He leans against the smooth metal surface and sinks to the floor, brings his knees to his chest.

He stays like that for the rest of the night, numb and staring at the nothingness of the dark room, the only comfort he allows himself provided by Monty's steady breathing.

 

0268

He drags his feet down the hallway, both thankful that the day is almost over and terrified of what the night will bring. He's barely holding himself together, Monty's pain permanently etched into his brain. He's been working on auto-pilot the whole day, not having the stomach for a meal. He couldn't even bring himself to face any of his companions for more than a couple of short moments in passing.

He avoided Monty altogether.

'Bellamy, wait.'

Raven's voice calls after him, and he realizes it made him stop just outside her room. Her door is wide open, and there she is, sitting on the edge of the bed with concerned look on her face.

'Come here.'

She extends her hand and he comes inside, takes it, lets her pull him close. His muscles giving out, he lowers himself into a crouch at her feet.

She takes his head into her hands, cradling his cheeks. 'Talk to me.'

Just like that, everything comes crashing down.

He takes a deep breath, resisting the urge to lean further into her touch. 'Monty had a nightmare last night.'

She frowns. 'He seemed fine when I talked to him earlier.'

'I doubt he remembers anything. He didn't really wake up.'

'Then what's the problem?'

He shakes off her hands and rubs his face, so _tired_. He can't bring himself to look her in the eyes. 'I did that, Raven. All those people, _the kids_ \- and now I see how much I hurt Monty too, I-‘

'You guys saved my life. That would mean it's all my fault.'

Bellamy shakes his head, finding her logic absurd. 'No, _I_ made the choice-'

Raven takes his hands and makes him look up at her. 'He made it possible, you pulled the lever, and it was me bleeding on that table - can't you see, Bellamy? It's not all black and white.' She brushes his curls away from his face, her voice softer this time. 'And it's not all yours to carry.'

His bows his head, resting his forehead against Raven's knees. She presses her cheek against the top of his head, whispers into his hair, ' _Let me help you_.'

Completely drained, his whole body burns with the urge to agree. So he does.

'Okay.'

She breathes a sigh of relief, her fingers weaving into his hair, gentle and comforting.

'Okay.' 

  

0300

They all learn to deal with the hard days in their own way.

Harper crosses out the round three hundred on the wall with shaky fingers before breakfast.

 _Three hundred_ sounds like a lot, but _three hundred out of one thousand eight hundred_ feels devastating.

Bellamy always writes before bed, but sometimes he won't be able to fall asleep until every muscle in his body is exhausted from grueling exercise. When Raven comments on it, he tells her they have to keep in shape if they plan to survive once they're back on the Ground.

She knows it's only half the truth. So she makes a point of joining him on those long nights, keeping him company or making him practice that one move she struggles to get right with her until all of their muscles are numb and they form a boneless heap on the cold floor.

If they oversleep the next morning, well then, good thing no one's there to give a damn anymore.

 

0365

It's Emori who decides they should celebrate. Bellamy reluctantly backs her up, remembering all those articles about the healing effect of an established routine and celebrating reached goals, or whatever.

He brings out a couple of those bottles he found, as well. That's probably how he ends up dancing a very dramatic tango with Murphy before the clock strikes midnight. When Murphy dips him for the big finale, the rest of them are brought to tears, clutching their stomachs. It feels good, almost like they are learning how to laugh again.

After that, Harper teaches everyone some old ritual dance she calls _the Macarena_ , and Echo convinces Monty to try a dramatic lift she claims she saw in a movie _Dirty Dancing_. She manages to lift him, but the reenactment quickly goes wrong when he starts shaking with laughter and they gracelessly topple to the ground.

Music changes to slower tracks, and gradually the laughter and chatter dwindles down. Echo lounges on the floor in front of high windows, thoughtful gaze observing the stars, Monty and Harper are tangled together on the sofa, engaged in a quiet conversation.

Bellamy finds himself swaying to the music, Raven soft and warm in his arms, her cheek resting against his chest.

He steps away and twirls her around; the smile she rewards him with is larger than life. He pulls her in again, curls his arm around her waist and presses a kiss to the top of her head.

They're tucked away in their own world, a world without sordid pasts and heartbreak. He closes his eyes and gets lost in the melancholic sound, letting the slow rhythm guide them.

When he opens his eyes again, there's no one left but them in the hall. It must be really late.

She hooks her arms under his and holds on tight. He decides there's no harm in staying a little longer.

 

0458

He's woken up by what sounds like someone banging on a pipe just outside his room. And of course it's _her_.

He burrows his head into the pillow, shouting, 'Are you _trying_ to bring the Ark down?'

Her response is to continue banging even harder.

Scowling, he drags himself out of bed and pulls the door open with more force than necessary, coming face to face with a delighted Raven, armed with tools and in her work clothes. 

She takes in his disheveled appearance, gaze blatantly lingering on his bare chest. 'Good morning, sunshine.'

He flips her off.

She grins, then goes back to work.

Day four hundred and fifty eight, here we come.

 

0500

He's lying in the bed, his side pressed into the cold metal wall.

He realizes he can't remember the feeling of wind against his face.

He reaches for the pillow and shoves his face into the soft linen, a painful scream building in the back of his throat. His fingers dig into the pillow, but no sound comes out, only prickling tears that stream down his face until there are none left.

A minute, an hour, he doesn't know much time passes before there's a soft knock against the door. She comes to the bed and lowers herself next to him, so that they're laying on their backs side by side.

He's almost lulled into something akin to peacefulness when her voice breaks the silence, so quiet and small that he thinks he's imagined it at first.

'Sometimes I think none of it was real.'

Her confession breaks his heart.

It breaks his heart because he feels it too, that tightness that begins in the throat and works its way around your body until you're left paralyzed and aware only of your beating heart.

He reaches for her hand.

She doesn't let go.

 

0589

'Do you think they are alive?' She asks him as they lie in bed one night, her back pressed into his chest, his bicep serving as her pillow. This is the third time this week that she sneaked into his room in the middle of the night, and he's starting to realize that maybe, maybe, she sleeps better beside him too.

'Sometimes,' he admits.

She runs her fingertips along his forearm, tracing his veins. 'If we think about it, things should work out in our favor at least once. It's basic probability theory.'

He chuckles, eyelids heavy after a long day. 'That's oddly comforting.'

'Science can be a bitch, but she's not intentionally cruel,' she says, stifling a yawn as she burrows closer into him, and that's when he knows.

He doesn't tell her, not yet. She's already asleep in his arms.

But soon.

 

0612

She marches into his room, tired and cranky after dealing with an awfully persistent pipe leakage the whole day. She crashes onto the bed, half on top of him, almost kicking the book out of his hands, and groans into the pillow.

'I hope you made yourself comfortable, I don't plan on moving ever again.'

He smiles, putting away the book, and carefully disentangles himself from her. She lifts her head in question, turning over so that she's lying on her back, and watches in slight surprise as he starts taking off her brace. Still, she doesn't say a word, just keeps her gaze on him as his fingers deftly unclasp and slip the brace off her leg, then bends over to leave it on the floor beside the bed.

When he returns, she's sitting up, and he finally notices the odd look on her face.

Before he can ask her about it, she leans over and presses her lips against his, gentle yet intense, an exercise in opposites just like her. Before his mind has a chance to recover from the blissful blankness she has reduced it to, she breaks off the kiss and braces her shaky self against his forehead, her hands not letting go off his shirt.

She whispers against his lips, 'I'm sorry.'

Her words taste bitter, so he swallows them to lighten her load, cupping her face in his hands and chasing after her. He tastes salt on her lips, her cheeks remarkably soft under his thumbs, and not only does she meet his every move but she also raises the stakes each time. His heart swells at something so distinctly _Raven_.

Her hands travel down his chest and dig into his waist when he runs his tongue over her lower lip and then catches it with his teeth, earning a sigh of content he wants to hear again and again and again. Before he can, her hands wrap around his forearms, stopping him.

He breaks off the kiss and regards her frown with concern, his hands still tangled in her hair. Her eyes are shut firmly closed, their chests heaving.

She slowly opens her eyes, then swallows hard, her words deliberate.

'Do you need someone, or do you need _me_?'

Realizing _that_ is what's bothering her, he smiles, breathing out in relief. Before she can shut him out completely, he cups her face again, making her look at him.

'Raven, I love you. I want to kiss you, like this, every day. But if that's not something you're up to, that's alright. Whatever you decide, you've been by my side for what feels like forever now, and I don't want to learn what it's like without you there.'

There it is. No playful banter, no good-natured teasing. All laid out, his heart and his own _always_ hers for the taking.

Even this exposed, he's not afraid. Whatever she chooses, he knows he's not losing his best friend.

She meets his eyes, and he sees everything in her gaze. Everything he feels himself, it's right there.

She leans forward and kisses him, the very essence of confidence as she rises on her knees and presses into him, her arms circling his shoulders like she plans to never let go.

Last time they did this, she was overwhelming, crushing him under the weight of her frustration and lust. This time, her mouth moves against his not like she wants him, but like she _loves_ him.

It makes all the difference in the world.

 

0613

She collapses on the bed next to him, struggling to catch her breath, her skin glistening with sweat.

'Boom,' she says, echoing her own words from a lifetime ago, this time adding a whole new meaning to them.

Warmth builds itself up somewhere deep in his chest, and by the time it spreads through his body he's laughing heartily, like he hasn't in a very long time. She joins him, her grin wide, and for a moment there she's that young fearless girl again, unaware of the mountain of heartache in her way.

They are both shaking, clutching at their stomachs, laughter filling them up until nothing else remains. She sniffs in the middle of another fit, and that's when he realizes his own eyes are watering.

'Why are we crying?' She asks, laughing even harder through the tears.

'I think we're entitled to a good cry after everything.'

He lets the tears roll over his cheeks, an unexpected sense of calmness settling in his chest. A grin breaks out on his face, and he feels so light that he fears he may float away.

Luckily, Raven's right there, pressing a kiss to his collarbone, and he knows, even if the nightmares returned right this second, she'd be fighting them by his side.

'I love you,' she whispers into his skin, settling against him, warm and sleepy.

'Yeah, I got that,' he answers, slightly amused and yet bursting from joy at her confession, jerking when she pinches his side.

'Don't be a dick, Blake.'

He chuckles, memories of their rocky start suddenly vivid in his mind. 'This is just like the old times, isn't it?'

'Want me to get the knife?'

'I'm alright,' he says, and brings her closer to him, corners of her mouth twitching against his neck.

When sleep finally pulls him under, there are still traces of a smile on his lips.

 

0871

He peels off her pants agonizingly slow, then comes back up her legs, leaving a trail of feather-like kisses in his wake.

'You need a haircut,' she tells him as her fingers tangle into his wayward curls. 'The beard can stay, though.'

'Oh yeah?' His grin is wicked, sending a tingling sensation down to her toes. He presses his stubbly cheek against her exposed inner thigh, his eyes gleaming when she shivers under his touch.

'Care to explain why?' he asks, feigning nonchalance.

Her back arches as she struggles to keep her composure, her jaw clenched. 'No comment.'

When he bites down on her thigh, her breath hitches. 'Coercion will get you nowhere.'

He gives her an amused look. 'I'm already _somewhere_.'

'Then why are you wasting your time talking when your mouth could be put to far better use?'

He obliges her, and it's not long before _he_ has to silence _her_.

 

1095

Three years down, two to go.

For the first time, the finish line is so near they can almost taste it.

They might just get through this, after all.

 

1107

The moment she climbs into bed next to him just minutes before their morning alarm is supposed to go off, he knows something is wrong.

She presses her back against his chest and brings his arm around her waist, tucking herself under him.

'You been working?' He asks, his voice still full of sleep. She's been known to lose track of time while working on one of her projects, but this feels different.

His concern is confirmed when she takes his hand and holds it close to her chest. 'It's not good.'

He hears the tremble in her voice and props his head up with his left hand, fear washing over him like a bucket of cold water. 'What happened?'

'I can't make it in time. The fuel is taking longer than I thought.'

He keeps his voice even, scenarios ranging from bad to worse whirling through his mind. 'How much longer?'

'Months,' she says, swallowing hard. 'I don't know, I have to run more simulations.'

He leans over and rests his cheek against hers, runs his thumb over her knuckles in a soothing manner.

'We'll deal with it,' he whispers, and she holds onto him, breathing out slowly.

'Okay.'

The bleak morning turns into a quiet, slow day. After he finishes working with Monty and Emori, he finds his way to Raven's lab.

This morning they agreed to wait until she runs more tests before they say anything to the crew. He reaches the lab and has a quick word with Murphy and Harper on their way out, anxious to see if Raven has any news.

Once he comes inside, it's clear they are anything but good.

She turns around and meets his eyes, her hunched shoulders and mournful expression telling him all he needs to know. Almost.

Instead of answering his silent question, she pulls up a complicated-looking simulation on one of the screens.

She presses a couple of buttons on the keyboard and the calculations spring to life, fuel reserves rising over time, and before he knows it a time estimate pops up on the bottom of the screen.

'MISSION EXTENSION: 368 DAYS'

Holding his breath, he looks over to Raven, praying she'll tell him this means something else. Something acceptable. Something that will let him breathe again.

She shakes her head.

Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck_.

Before he can say anything, the lab door slides open. 'Hey, I left my-'

Their heads whip around to see Murphy halt in the doorway, his narrowed eyes darting from their stricken expressions to the simulation result on the big screen.

'What the hell is this?' He demands, but they are still too stunned to move.

His eyes are glued to the numbers on the screen. 'Tell me this isn't what it looks like.'

'We can explain,' Bellamy starts, just as Raven takes the results down.

'So it is, then,' Murphy looks at them in shock. 'How long did you plan on hiding this from us?'

'We didn't-'

'No, this isn't right,' he shakes his head, backing away out of the lab.

Bellamy goes after him. 'Murphy, wait-'

'Murphy!' Raven shouts, but he doesn't stop.

They follow him the short distance to the council room where everyone has gathered for the evening meal. When they barge into the room, everyone's eyes immediately zero in on the three of them.

'What is going on?' Monty frowns, sweeping his gaze over them. 

Instead of answering, Murphy turns to Raven and Bellamy expectantly, and gestures with his hand. 'Tell them.'

'I-' Raven starts, but the words get caught in her throat.

Murphy loses his patience and turns to everyone else. 'Turns out they've been lying to us. We're not getting out of here any time soon.'

Raven starts pacing back and forth, shaking her head as she struggles to explain. 'Fuel for the DV is going to cost us some time. I found out yesterday, and I only confirmed it now.'

'How long?' Murphy presses.

' _Murphy_ ,' Bellamy warns, his concerned gaze never leaving Raven's distressed expression.

Harper glares at Murphy. 'Calm down. Without her we would've all been dead years ago.'

He ignores both of them, looking straight at Raven. ' _Well?_ '

Raven stops. 'One year.'

Bellamy's eyes shut closed, his chest exhaling in resignation.

Raven clears her throat. 'One year and I can make it work.'

Deafening silence takes over the room as everyone strains to process what this means.

'Are we gonna last one more year?' Echo voices everyone's concern.

Raven sinks into a seat, shaking her head. 'I don't know.'

Murphy slams his hand on the table and sends the glass of water flying into the wall. Everyone flinches as the glass shatters and sends shards flying across the room, just as Murphy storms out of the through the doorway.

Shock gives way to horror as they realize that the water has been spilled all over their day tracking wall. Drops of water succumb to gravity and rush towards the floor, smearing black paint on its way. Harper snatches a blanket from the sofa and goes to minimize the damage.

'Leave it,' Bellamy stops her, overwhelmed by frustration and helplessness. 'There's too damn many to count, anyway.'

Defeated, they watch as the markings disappear, water melting away all traces of the long days they suffered through.

A while later, Bellamy finds himself pacing in their room, in their _cell_ , wondering if this is it.

She comes in through the door with the same frustration burning in her eyes, a vision like always when she's angry. She doesn't say anything. Doesn't have to. No words can make this better.

She reaches for him, her fingers twisting the fabric of his shirt, and pulls him into her. Her mouth is on his, hot and heavy.

His hands weave into her hair, shielding her head as they crash into the wall. Books fall from the small table, but he couldn't care less. She presses her mouth against his neck, again and again, her fingers sparking a wildfire on his stomach.

He kisses her, hard. She tears his shirt off, pushes him on the bed.

She peels off her own shirt, throws away the bra. He helps her with her brace, and in record time she's on the bed, pinned under him, her back arching as he runs his tongue down her throat. She pulls him up again, makes him taste the urgency on her lips.

Just for a moment, he wants to feel her soft skin and not the crushing weight of everything that has been lost, he wants to taste her lips instead of his failure.

For a moment, just for a moment, he thinks, _would it be so bad if those flames that plague his nightmares returned and swallowed them whole_?

He traces the familiar outline of her body, his fingers digging into her thigh. She attacks with the same ferocity, bringing him closer until there's no space to breathe, no space to think.

Because this all is starting to feel like _too much_. Too much pain and not enough air in his lungs.

She holds on tight, her nails sink into his back and he doesn't care, he would let her crawl under his skin if he could, just to keep her close forever.

 

1108

They lie in darkness, limbs tangled and fingers intertwined.

He presses his mouth against the top of her head, whispers into her hair, 'What's one more year, anyway?'

She squeezes his hand and, even though he can't see it, he knows there's a smile on her face. She shifts even closer, burrowing her head into his neck.

He brings her hand to his lips and presses a feather-like kiss to each of her knuckles. Her nose brushes against his neck, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm as she slowly drifts to asleep.

Bellamy swallows hard, bracing himself against the all too familiar surge of helplessness.

_Please, please, please – let them survive this._

 

1120

He's on his way to a storage room on the other side of the ring, mentally taking stock of all the supplies they've been running low on, when an alarm starts blaring, freezing him in the spot.

He's heard this sound before, the warning rise and fall of a siren, the announcement of death.

The box in his hands crashes to the ground, somewhere far, the sound coming out muffled because the ground has shifted under his feet.

He's in the cage, stench of blood filling his nostrils and turning his stomach over.

The kids, oh God, the kids.

His sister, blackness everywhere.             

Raven, on the table.

Gunshot.

No!

He stumbles backwards, and his back crashes against something hard. His legs give out, and then he's sinking, down, down, down.

He can't breathe. He can't breathe.

They fall, one by one, their skin melting from poisonous radiation.

The lever.

The kids are screaming for their parents, but they are already gone.

Darkness, everywhere.

He can't breathe. He can't get out.

Someone's hands are on him, their firm grasp pulling him to the surface.

_Bellamy._

He gasps for breath, hanging onto that someone with everything he has to stop himself from drowning.

_Bellamy. You're okay. You're safe._

His heart is raging against his rib cage, but he allows himself to listen to the familiar voice, arms holding him in place.

_You're okay, Bellamy. Just breathe, come on, in and out._

The chest his back is pressed against rises and falls, and he matches the movement with his lungs, his vision clearing until he recognizes the signs decorating the walls, remembers the cold floor tiles under him.

Alive. Ark. Five years. One more.

'You're okay,' a voice murmurs against his ear, and his body melts into hers in relief.

Raven.

Alive. Ark. Five years. One more.

'I got you, Bellamy. I got you.'

His head rests in the crook of her neck, finding comfort in her familiar scent, and she releases her death grip on his chest to weave her fingers into his hair.

'It's okay,' she repeats once again, gentle fingers moving his hair out of his face. 'One of the heating panels malfunctioned. We patched it up.'

He also hears the unspoken words: _for now_.

The constant threat is real, they know that, they've always known that, but maybe they got too comfortable, too hopeful for their own good. At this point they are one loose screw away from becoming a cloud of particles in vacuum.

He thinks about all their dreams that could stay forever unfulfilled, all the days they'll never get to live.

Her hand comes up back to his chest, rests against his heart.

Her nose brushes against his ear. 'What can I do?'

'Don't let me hope.'

She presses her forehead against his temple, and he notices her unreadable expression in the corner of his eye. 'You'd rather despair?'

He takes a deep breath, already hating himself for what he's about to say. 'Raven, there's a very real chance we won't make it.'

He expects her to argue, to call him out on his defeatism, to push, to raise hell. Instead, she sags against his back, suddenly deflated.

She presses her lips to the top of his head. 'I know.'

It _hurts_ so damn much.

 

1143

High-pitched sirens wake them up at three in the morning, and Bellamy's heart drops to his stomach before his feet hit the floor.

Raven is already half way out of their room.

The artificial voice of the automated warning system makes their blood run cold.

The oxygenator is dead, that's all they get out of Raven before she's back to her fast-paced technical conversation with Monty. There are a couple of prototypes she has been working on, just in case. But none of them are ready to work for a period longer than 24 hours.

She shoos them out of the lab, saying she needs time to think. After everyone else clears out, Bellamy gives her a worried look, but she waves him away with a curt ' _it's_ _fine_.' Having noticed her trembling hands and the strain in her voice, he knows it's _not_ _fine_. But if they plan to live another day, she's their only hope - once again, she's the one who gets to carry the burden.

Oh, how he wishes he could take it all upon himself. He can't, though, so he gives her shoulder a comforting squeeze on his way out and directs a silent prayer to the stars.

Hours trickle by. They sit in silence, wondering if they have used up all their miracles by now.

'How long do we have?' Harper asks, her quiet words setting off everyone's rapid heartbeats.

Monty presses his lips together, avoiding meeting their eyes. 'By the end of the day, at best.'

Raven doesn't stop. Whenever Bellamy peers through the door to check up on her, she's flitting around the lab, telling him she needs more time. He knows she can do it, he's never been able to doubt her.

'How is she doing?' Monty asks, nervously waiting for him in the hallway outside.

'She needs more time.'

Monty looks away, nodding as the same thought creeps into his mind.

_There may be none._

Bellamy keeps watch of the clock, swallowing hard every time they lose another hour. He tries to hide his worry from everyone, as if he can get them through this by sheer force of will alone.

He would, if he could. They finally got to a good place, it feels like they have just let themselves be happy again. _It's not fair._

Another alarm starts, setting off emergency lighting and flashing screens that warn them of excess carbon dioxide levels.

Before he can say anything, Raven shuts it off and continues breaking apart a piece of the life support system even harder. He watches her with a lump in his throat.

'I can do it,' she insists, sweat trickling down her forehead.

He doesn't have the heart to tell her they have only three hours left.

He rejoins the others in the council room, his eyes drawn to their mural of crossed-over days upon entrance.

'This is it, then?' Echo asks, her gaze fixed on the clouds drifting across the planet outside. So close. They were _so close_.

The ringing silence breaks each of their hearts one last time.

'What happens now?' Emori voices the question on everyone's mind.

Harper's voice pipes up from the corner. 'Decreased concentration, headache, loss of judgement, unconsciousness, death.'

Everyone's widened eyes are on her, but she only shrugs. 'I looked it up.' Swallowing hard, she starts wringing her hands. 'We have enough morphine-'

'Not yet, Harper,' Bellamy cuts her off, pushes himself off the wall he was leaning on and leaves the room.

He walks aimlessly down the corridors, struggling to calm himself down and sort out his thoughts. This could very well be the end of them.

The whole thing may seem black and white at the first glance, like anything short of surviving the whole five years and returning to Earth is a failure and, frankly, a waste of borrowed time.

But even if they failed, even if the last seven humans are about to fall asleep miles away from their home and never wake up, it wasn't in vain. They argued, they laughed, they cried - they wanted to live and no one can say they didn't try.

And maybe that's enough.

He thinks back to everything he's done and surprises himself with all the good moments his mind comes up with. Everything he regrets is there, too, but it doesn't suffocate him like it used to.

His sister clinging to his back, her joyful laughter transforming their tiny room into an endless universe. The carefree celebration at the Ground. Swimming in a clear lake, floating on his back and getting lost in the vivid blue of the sky above. Day 365 on the Ark, his stomach hurting from laughter again for the first time. Raven, sleepy and warm, pressing into his side as her lips stretch into a content smile.

He slows down and comes to a halt under a flicking light. Helplessness and anger give way to a calm sort of acceptance. If this is the end, at least he got to add many new rights to all those horrific wrongs.

He turns around and heads back, his arms itching to wrap themselves around one of the biggest rights of his life. Whatever happens, she has to know that.

As he approaches the lab, he finds Monty sitting by the wall, any trace of his agitation gone.

Bellamy lowers himself on the floor next to him. 'Do you think there's any hope?'

'Maybe,' Monty says, bringing his knees closer to his chest. His lips press into something between a grimace and a smile. 'But not for us.'

Bellamy's eyes close as he lets the meaning behind the words sink in. He waits for the despair to swallow him whole, claim his body as he kicks and screams. It doesn't come. Instead, he lets his head fall back and slowly breathes out.

Teetering on the brink of death? Been there, done that. They got away with so many things so many times, maybe today is the day they get what's been coming to them.

On a whim, he takes Monty's hand and squeezes hard. 'We did good.'

Corners of Monty's mouth tug up even as his eyes start watering. He leans in and hugs Bellamy, nodding as he tries to contain his tears.

Bellamy brings his arms around him and holds on tight. 'Thank you for being at my side all this time.'

Monty lets out a choky laugh, his chin wobbling against Bellamy's shoulder. 'I'm glad we got to be alive at the same time, even though we chose a pretty fucked up one.'

Bellamy smiles, his heart swollen from all the emotions bubbling inside. 'We made it work.'

Monty finally lets him go and leans away, resting his head back against the wall. 'We should probably be pissed because we got this close.' His gaze falls on Raven racing against the unreachable clock behind the glass doors. 'I don't know how she still does it.'

Bellamy sighs, knowing that the time has come. 'I'll go talk to her.'

Monty gives him a sad smile before they pick themselves up from the floor. They part ways wordlessly, eyes mirroring the same mournful acceptance.

Bellamy crosses the rest of the hallway, aware that every step he makes is a part of the countdown to the end.

He walks past an open door, sees Emori and Murphy tangled together in a corner, eyes bleary and staring into empty space.

 _In peace, may you leave this shore_ , the blessing echoes in his mind, and makes him think how peace doesn't sound too bad right now.

Raven doesn't notice when the sliding door lets him through. She's pacing back and forth, her brow furrowed. She turns around and freezes when she sees him, immediately launching into a frustrated tirade.

'I tried every single thing I could come up with, and none of them work-'

'I know,' he tells her calmly.

'-I ran the simulator eighty-tree times, and it always ends with either excess carbon dioxide or an explosion-'

'I know.'

'-there's just not enough time to make it work, I have no fucking clue what to do!' in a burst of anger she swipes her arm over the metal table, sending everything she's been working flying to the floor.

Nothing can be heard except for whir of computer fans as her darkening gaze remains fixed on the scattered parts.

'Do nothing.'

She runs her hands through her hair, snapping from sheer frustration. 'What are you saying?'

He comes up to her, takes her hands in an attempt to soothe her.

' _You know._ '

She shakes her head violently, gnawing at her lip, and it all comes crashing down. 

His hands come up to cradle her head, his thumbs unable to brush the incoming tears away fast enough. His arms are shaking, his whole body is shaking as he moves her sweaty hair away from her face and wills her to look at him.

He presses his forehead against hers, swallowing hard. 'Maybe it's time we stop trying.'

His voice is not the only thing that breaks.

His vision may be blurry from his own tears, but there's no mistaking the look she gives him when she finally meets his eyes.

_Betrayal._

'I can't, Bellamy.'

She looks away and then her hands are on his forearms, trying to push him away.

He doesn't let her, even though every nerve in his body screams at him to stop. 'Raven, we tried everything,' he pleads, 'and it's just not enough.‘

Her eyes are snapped shut like she's in pain, but he still sees the familiar yet heartbreaking defiance in her chin. When she opens her eyes again, there's an unexpected clarity inside them.

'I'm pregnant.'

Her words ring in his mind. He blinks once, twice. Meets her wary eyes. His world shatters, then slowly builds itself back up.

Before he can form a coherent thought in his brain, she tells him resolutely, 'I'm not giving up.'

'I know,' the words escape his mouth, his eyes shutting in resignation. She's not giving up on any of it. And now, with this new burst of unexpected joy and sheer panic mixing into one, he doesn't want to, either.

So, this is it then. Welcoming the end is no longer a viable plan. There's a passenger on board that deserves a chance.

She brings her hand to his cheek, runs her thumb over his stubble. 'This hasn't been easy.'

He knows what she means. They are all so _tired_ , exhausted down to their bones.

Her hand slips down to her stomach. ' _It_  made me fight harder.'

He takes her other hand and brings it to his lips, places a kiss on her palm.

'We'll make this work,' his heart promises, even though his head reminds him that, at this point, failure is inevitable.

She nods, blinking back tears of relief, and he tells his head to go fuck itself.

A thought crosses his mind, and he frowns, still too shocked to process anything else. 'Just so we're clear, we're not calling our baby It.'

'Yeah, you're right,' she agrees with a thoughtful expression. ' _The Terminator_ is much better.'

'We are _not_ calling-'

'Oh my God!' Raven freezes, her eyes wide. 'Of course!'

She pulls him in and kisses him hard, flashes him a triumphant grin before running off without another word. He knows better than to question it.

Hope, hesitant but still _there_ , blossoms inside his chest.

The next twenty minutes are among the longest of his life. It doesn't help that, to pass the time, he gets to alternate between hyperventilating and smiling like an idiot as the realization that _she is pregnant_ sinks in.

With one hour and forty-seven minutes left on the clock, she gathers everyone and sits them down to explain the situation.

'I found a way.'

'What's it gonna be this time?' Murphy immediately cuts to the chase, already resigned to the fact that nothing comes free in life, but on the Ark it will cost you twice as much plus your soul, probably.

Raven glances at Bellamy for quick reassurance. He inclines his head, and she takes a deep breath before answering. 'I took out the life support system out of our descent vehicle. We won't need it, hopefully, since we don't plan to linger inside the atmosphere and we know the surface will be survivable. There's a problem, however.'

She looks at them, 'The system is too weak to supply a huge volume like this. We need to cut our living space size by about eighty percent, which means sealing the main area and a couple of rooms around it, maybe. Everywhere else goes vacuum.'

'Okay,' Harper says. 'We can live with that. At least we're not adding another year up here, right?'

Raven nods at her in gratitude. 'Not today.'

'Okay, everyone,' Bellamy steps up, his mind already supplying plans. 'Let's get to work, we don't have much time. Monty, you and Raven makes sure everything is set into place. Emori, go make sure the farm is secure, we can't afford to lose it. Harper, you, Echo and Murphy start piling the supplies into the main corridor. I'll sweep through the areas we're closing off and make sure we haven't left anything valuable there. I'll join you once I'm done. Let's go, everyone!'

They finish transferring everything in nick of time, and watch anxiously as Raven puts the newly scraped machine into place, the ventilation system hissing above their heads.

Monty looks to Bellamy for confirmation before the final step, and he nods, holding his breath as Monty overrides the system and seals the doors permanently. 

It is done.

 

1144

They sit surrounded by the countless plastic crates and pass a bottle of whiskey between themselves. They have earned it, after a day like that.

The council room is filled to the brim with supplies they need to survive, but they don't care. They sit in a semi-circle and watch the clouds drift over the Earth.

Raven is sitting between his legs, her back resting against his chest. He runs his thumb against the soft skin of her forearm, and she snuggles further into the crook of his neck, breathing out a sigh of content.

When Harper passes her the bottle and she shakes her head, Bellamy presses his lips against the top of her head in a silent show of solidarity.

They need to talk about all of _that_ , he knows. But they can do it in the morning.

A part of the Ark which they closed off comes into view outside, and shudders at how cold and empty it looks without the lights. 

The bottle reaches Murphy, and he takes a swing. 'Do you guys ever think the Universe is trying to tell us something with all these fucking attempts to murder us?'

'Maybe,' Bellamy catches himself answering. 'But when have we ever listened?'

Raven smiles against his neck, and her tired ease warms him more than the liquid burning inside his throat.

He welcomes the dawn in the same spot, carding his fingers through Raven's hair as she sleeps on the floor with her head in his lap. Monty is pressed against his side, snoring softly next to his ear.

Bellamy sweeps his gaze over his friends' sleeping forms, blessed to see them recovering from yesterday's horrors. At this point, if they don't make it, every single catastrophe they had to overcome would have been in vain.

He's not going to let that happen.

 

1162

'So. We're having a baby.'

Silence.

'A baby,' Monty repeats evenly, staring at Bellamy in disbelief.

'Yes.'

'Why?' Echo asks, confused.

Raven shrugs. 'It happened, and we're rolling with it.'

Murphy taps his fingers against the sofa's armrest. 'Not to be a dick, but are you sure that raising a baby while trapped in this metal hellhole is the best idea?'

'Absolutely not,' Raven tells him confidently. 'But we're doing it anyway.'

She gives Bellamy's arm a reassuring squeeze, and although it calms him down significantly he can't help but feel a little guilty that the pregnant woman is comforting him instead of the other way around.

'Alright then,' Monty sinks back into his chair, still slightly bewildered.

'Congrats...?' Harper tries, hesitant, and it comes out as more of a question.

'Thanks,' Raven grins. 'We're calling It Terminator.'

Bellamy gives her the side-eye before turning to the group. 'We're _not_ calling It Terminator.'

Murphy shrugs. 'It's cute. Gender neutral as well.'

'Definitely unique,' Harper agrees, struggling to keep her composure serious.

'It's a solid movie,' Echo adds. 'The sequels are a little disappointing, though.'

Bellamy throws his hands up in the air. 'I hate every single one of you.'

'No you don't,' Monty says without hesitation, patting Bellamy's head as he passes him on his way to the the fridge.

Raven presses into his side with a smug grin, 'I know at least one person you love.'

Bellamy looks at her, feigning a guilty expression. 'So you know about mine and Murphy's affair, then. Well, that's a shame.'

Murphy winks at him, but Raven's not amused. She pinches his side, narrowing her eyes. 'Keep making jokes like that and I'll name our kid Terminator for real.'

He laughs, presses a kiss to the top of her head.

_Our kid._

It's terrifying, and more than a little insane.

But fuck if it doesn't sound _right_.

 

1291 

'Do you think I'll be a terrible mother?' she says, avoiding his eyes as she grips the edge of the sink in one of their two remaining bathrooms. Morning sickness is a bitch, it turns out.

He looks at her in shock, although he can guess where her concern is coming from. She's definitely not a poster child for wholesome family experience. Still, that doesn't mean it's not the most ridiculous question he has ever heard.

' _No_ ,' he says, unable to stress it enough. 

She looks up at him, her voice uncharacteristically small. 'Why?'

'You've been taking care of all of us since day one. Literally the first thing you did was set me straight.'

She smiles, reminiscing about the early days. 'You  _were_  acting like a dick.'

'See? I'll teach our kid cool history facts and you'll make sure they're not a dick. I think that means we're set.'

She snorts, all traces of insecurity gone. 'You're an idiot,' she tells him fondly, snuggling against his chest. 'But you are  _my_  idiot.'

'We'll be alright,' he promises her, kissing the top of her head. 'Your heart is biggest one I've ever seen. You're going to be an amazing mother.'

'Fucking hell, Bellamy. You're going to make me cry again,' she grumbles into his chest, but then brings her hands around him and hugs him tight. 'Thank you.'

'I've got plenty more of material, just say the word.'

She pokes him in the side, smirking when it makes him jump. 

'You're a menace,' he tells her, and she grins.

'Now that's more like it.'

They stay like that, simply holding each other in a cramped bathroom.

‘Hey, Bellamy?’

‘Mhm?’

‘You think my heart is the biggest one,‘ she starts.

‘I _know_ it is-‘

‘It’s because you haven’t seen your own.’

 

1383

Raven rests against the pillows, hair strands plastered to her forehead, her chest heaving in exhaustion.

She has never been more beautiful.

'Give it up, Reyes,' he grins, raising his palm in the air.

She shoots him a murderous look, but his sincere delight means she's unable to stop a grin of her own. She rolls her eyes but still high-fives him, and he laughs, placing a kiss above her brow. 'I love you.'

'You better. That was your human squeezing out of my vagina.'

He winces. 'Once again, sorry for that.'

'It's alright,' she says, her eyes immediately lighting up when Harper appears at her side and passes her their new small wrinkled human, freshly cleaned and bundled up.

They watch in wonder as their daughter sleeps peacefully, burrowed against her mother's chest.

Raven melts into Bellamy's side, warm and soft, and he presses his forehead against her temple, overcome by relief. Their smiles mirror each other, the dopey kind that would usually make Raven poke fun at him.

She strokes their daughter's tiny hand before addressing him. 'Okay, hit me with it.'

He looks at her in question, and she clarifies. 'I'm sure you have a lengthy list of ancient greek names ready. I'm fine with naming her after dead people, but I'm drawing the line at the ones we knew. That would just be weird.'

He chuckles, agreeing with her sentiment. Their new human has nothing to do with the horrors of their past. And he has, in fact, come up with a few suggestions of the classical variety, but today none of them feel quite right.

He runs his thumb over his daughter's tiny arm, a heavenly sense of lightness coming over him when she grasps his finger. Love, instant and pure, it fills him up, up, up, until he feels he might burst from the emotion alone.

He leans into Raven, his nose brushing against her ear. 'I think I got something better.'

'Yeah?'

' _Hope._ '

Raven's grin is instant and wide. 'Fine,' she says. 'That's slightly better than Terminator. You got lucky.'

'Luck's got nothing to do with it, babe.'

'Let's just pray she gets the brains from me.'

He shakes his head, amusement and pride evident on his joyful expression. She turns her head to find his eyes, their noses bumping.

'You with us?'

He kisses the tip of her nose.

'Always.'

 

1419

Turns out raising a baby in a small confined space is a great way to drive seven people insane.

For a couple of months there Hope becomes allergic to sleep and apparently decides that if she's not going to sleep, _no one will_. There is nowhere to hide from her insistent cries, but Bellamy's glad that at least he doesn't have to beg her to quiet down with fear of discovery lodged in his heart.

It does reminds him of those first days on the Ground, when Jasper's injury kept the whole camp awake. He tells the others this, and they smile despite the heavy layers of exhaustion they've been fighting for days.

'He'd be proud to see his legacy carried out,' Monty comments, his gaze falling on Hope, who has finally given them a reprieve after falling asleep in Bellamy's arms.

 

1447

The crying jerks him from sleep in what has become a fairly predictable routine. He cracks open an eye, hands coming up to press against the mattress and lift him up, but Raven's already slipping out of bed and taking Hope in her arms.

For a moment, she's pacified, but then her lungs start working again.

'Listen up, kid,' Raven says, weary yet earnest, and Hope actually stops crying, looking up at her mother in wonder. 'I'm terrified too. All of this is far from anything we've ever planned. But you have the best dad you could possibly get, and I'm doing my best. We're not going anywhere, I promise.'

Hope can't understand her words, but it's almost like she realizes the meaning and conviction behind them, and lets her mother gently rock her back to sleep.

Bellamy smiles, watching his two favorite people from behind heavy eyelids. When Raven climbs back beside him, she tucks herself against his side and presses a light kiss to his shoulder. He brings her closer instinctively, her head burrowing in the crook of his neck, and they both sink into sleep, content and peaceful, their recurring nightmares seemingly just fading memories of a distant world that can't touch them now.

 

1460

'Two more years,' she whispers against his ear, her hand sliding up his arm as he rouses from sleep.

'Hmm?'

'I said we got two more years.'

He turns around to face her, drowsily blinking away remains of sleep. 'Don't want to spoil your party, but we had two more years a year ago, too.'

She pokes him in the side. 'Not in front of the _baby_ , Bellamy.'

He chuckles at her aghast expression, turning them over slowly and effectively pinning her to the mattress. He kisses the soft skin under her ear in an apology, earning a soft sigh of content. Her fingers weave into his hair, her back arching when his teeth graze her earlobe.

He lifts his head and meets her eyes, delighted to see her lips stretched into a lazy smile.

He remembers back when each smile felt like a victory, when there was nothing but guilt for days at a time. Look how far they've come.

When he thinks about it, he's okay with two more years. He'll be okay with two more years after that, if he had to.

As long as he has her by his side.

 

1693

Her first word is _Moty_.

It happens in the middle of breakfast, and everyone is stunned into silence. Hope doesn't care that the grownups are all gaping at her in shock, she continues playing with her toys like she hasn't just unveiled a massive conspiracy.

Apparently Monty and Echo made a bet on whose name Hope will learn first, both teaching her when no one was looking. And the kid has now spoken. Quite literally.

Bellamy thinks it's hilarious, but Raven is less amused.

'Yeah, it's all fun and games but neither of you had to push her out of your vagina.'

Monty has the decency to look ashamed. 'I'm sorry, guys, I didn't think it would be her first word.'

'Just so you know, the next time she cries in the middle of the night and says your name, you're the one getting out of bed.'

 

1705

'You know,' Raven tells Bellamy with an amused gleam in her eye, 'what he doesn't realize is - she calls me _Monty_ too.'

Bellamy chuckles. 'Don't tell him, it would crush him.'

'Oh, don't worry. But you can bet his kid will be singing Aunt Raven's name before it even thinks to say _dad_.'

'Remind me not to get on your bad side,' Bellamy chuckles.

She pats his chest. 'Babe, you couldn't be there if you tried.'

Bellamy gives her an unamused look. 'You threw a pillow at me this morning.'

'D'you think I'd be throwing _pillows_ if I was actually angry?'

He raises an eyebrow, his tone a touch dry. 'That's reassuring.'

He catches her eye, and they both burst out laughing.

 

1913

Hope runs down the hallways without a care in the world, that scary childish wobble in her steps, and there's always someone chasing after her, shouting words of caution, barely keeping up with her surprisingly high speed. She only giggles at their worry and runs faster, navigating the narrow hallways with ease, until her dad appears in front of her and scoops her into his arms. She shrieks in surprise, then laughs when he tickles her, and her mom smirks at uncle Monty, who finally reaches them, out of breath.

Everyone's spirits are higher than they have been in years.

Harper starts carving small lines representing Hope's height in one of the doorways. Emori plays hide-and-seek with her for hours, until she learns to hide so well that they all have to help her find her. Murphy always covers her ears before he swears in a low tone, his hands so gentle that Bellamy has to fight a grin. Whenever she sticks her tongue out at Murphy, he returns the favor, and she squeals with delight.

Echo gives her a makeshift toy sword for her second birthday, very light and with blunt edges, and Hope spends weeks screaming ' _Duel!_ ', charging at everyone in her path.

'You guys teach her the weirdest words,' Bellamy says, taking his sleeping daughter from Raven's lap to carry her to her bed.

Raven gives him an amused smile. 'I'm pretty sure she said _Ave_ _Caesar_ yesterday in the bath.'

Bellamy opens his mouth to argue against her accusation, but changes his mind when Raven arches an eyebrow. 'Touche.'

 

2046

He catches Monty lulling her to sleep with a story about Uncle Jasper, about his large smile and the worst moonshine they ever made. Echo tells her about the ground, making her giggle as she imitates funny sounds made by crunchy leaves, and beautiful snowflakes that melt against your skin. He finds Raven showing her the planet below and telling her about Clarke, the girl who gave them a fighting chance.

So he sits her down to braid her hair, and starts telling her about a black-haired girl just like her, who had the same wide-eyed curiosity and joy bursting out of her.

Maybe she's only half listening to him, impatient to get back to her makeshift toys. Maybe she doesn't quite understand it just yet.

But she will, in time. They'll make sure of it. 

 

2100

The last hundred days. Tensions are running high, restlessness sneaks into every corner of their confined space. Everyone can see the finish line, there, just out of their reach, and it's nowhere near close enough.

Hope is fast asleep in their room, so Bellamy brings out one of the last bottles in an attempt to get everyone to calm down.

They get drunk and make a _humanity 2.0_ vision board, just in case they are really the last ones alive.

Echo advocates mandatory combat training. Monty sneaks in an unregulated recreational substance consumption while no one's looking. Raven adds 'pass on the story that four angry dragons set the world on fire,' and frowns when an amused Harper takes away the bottle from her. Murphy tries to ban all forms of philosophy, but Bellamy quickly vetoes that, and it feels just like the old times.

He watches his friends bicker with a smile. It's his family, a bit weird and not what he expected to find all those years ago, but _his_ nonetheless.

Suddenly, he remembers being thirteen and walking past a hall where some of the neighbors congregated every week, standing in a circle holding hands. He remembers dragging his feet, and then drowning in guilt, dreading coming home. Because Octavia was waiting to ask once again when she could leave the room, and his stomach would hurt because he _didn't know_.

He remembers only half registering the echoing voices, having no use of hymns about life and renewal, of prayers for a world whose fading memory read like a Greek myth.

And then he got to the ground, saw the world, experienced its worshiped reality in all its glory; from the crisp air burning his lungs to bruises blossoming on his tanned skin.

He remembers thinking, the Earth is not as extraordinary as advertised - it's better. Strands of grass brushing against his legs, an earthy scent lingering in the air after rain, soft soil under his feet as freezing cold water rushes around his ankles.

He can't wait to go home.

No, he's not going to gather his family and make them sing praise to the planet below, but he will look out of the window to where blue joins green, and say, _may we meet again_.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2200

The preparations are done, the countdown is in place.

Ship is filled to the brim, or as much as Raven dared to - the last of their food, supplies that should prove useful once they get to the Ground. Bellamy’s chronicles, valuable pieces of tech, Hope’s first toy, a picture they took last week. A surprisingly positive summary of all the years that passed.

This is it. 

Murphy and Echo are already inside, strapping themselves into the seats.

Bellamy lingers in the doorway that’s thirty-five minutes away from sealing forever. He presses his hand against the doorway, finding strange comfort in the familiar cold metal. Empty hallways spread in front of him, scenes from the last six years playing out vividly in his mind.

 _Fuck you, ark,_ he thinks, eyes sweeping over their metal cage one last time.

His gaze falls on Raven, alight with excitement, their daughter giggling in her arms, and he smiles. 

_But thank you, too._


End file.
